


Combination

by TheLoud



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cursebreaking, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:25:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21520120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLoud/pseuds/TheLoud
Summary: I participated in a rare pair challenge and was assigned these two characters at random. This story is very silly, but at least it’s short.
Relationships: Septima Vector/Bill Weasley
Kudos: 14





	Combination

Another long evening of grading stretched before Septima Vector. She made sure she had a good supply of red ink, and had just tsked over a sixth-year’s mistake that really, he should have stopped making in fourth year, when a patronus appeared over her desk. It had a cruel-beaked bird head and long scaly wings. It opened its beak and spoke in a voice she recognized. “Professor Vector, I need your help. Can you meet me by the winged boar statues in half an hour?”

As if she didn’t have anything better to do than help an old student! Bill Weasley was unusually intelligent for a Gryffindor, which wasn’t saying much of course. He had to be up against a pretty intriguing curse if he couldn’t break it himself. Perhaps she could write it up in the Journal of Arithmancy once she’d solved it. She looked at the pile of grading on her desk. The thought of joining the adventurous redhead was rather appealing.

She drew her wand. “ _ Expecto Patronum _ !” Her lycaenid butterfly appeared, the number 7 perfectly drawn on each of its silver wings. “Mr. Weasley, this had better be interesting enough to justify pulling me away from my work. I’ll see you soon.” The butterfly fluttered off to deliver its message. 

Accompanying Mr. Weasley on one of his cursebreaking adventures called for different clothing than a quiet evening grading. Septima removed her severe black robes and replaced them with sensible trousers, and a black dragonhide jacket and boots. She put her long dark hair out of the way in a bun. Then she headed out of the castle, to the statues of the winged boars. 

There was Mr. Weasley, who always seemed to her to be the true owner of that name, not one of his brothers who kept filing through the school in a seemingly infinite line. The Weasleys were a perfect example of why Hogwarts should include a course on family planning. How could any family not realize that once they’d had Bill, they’d had enough? He leaned nonchalantly against a winged boar, his long red hair fanned to a brighter flame by the sunset, and smiled when he saw her. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ve got a devil of a tricky obstacle to get through, and I knew as soon as I saw it that it was your sort of thing. I’ll side-along apparate you there, I already took down the anti-apparition ward. You’ll get your usual percentage. All right?”

She nodded. She knew better than to ask for details about the location, or actual ownership of the treasure behind this obstacle, whether judged by human or goblin law. As far as she could tell, goblin law was “finders keepers,” when it came to human treasure, and Weasley had no trouble following their law. 

He gripped her arm in his strong hand and soon she found herself in a dark, echoing catacomb. “Lumos,” said Weasley, and lights he must have set up earlier glowed from the walls and low ceiling. “There it is,” he said pointing. “I broke through the wards, and the boobytraps, and got past the pool of lava, and the nest of inferi scorpions was pretty nasty, but I have no idea what to do with this.”

Septima stared. Then she started laughing. 

“What?” demanded Weasley. 

“That’s a combination lock.”

“A what?”

“It’s a muggle thing.” She sighed. This was not going to result in a publishable Arithmancy paper. “A cursebreaker should know this,” she scolded as she sat down to crack the lock. 

“How are you—“

“Hush. I’m concentrating.” Weasley was nothing if not distracting. 

After a while, she opened it. 

“You did it!”

She slammed the shackle back in and spun the wheel. “Now that you know it can be done, do it yourself. First you find the last number of the combination. Pull the shackle hard and hold it. Turn the dial counterclockwise until you feel it stop between two positions…”

It took quite a while for her to teach how to get the third number of the combination, and then there were still the other two to go. She didn’t really mind. His blue eyes looked at her adoringly as she painstakingly explained the method. A man that pretty didn’t have to be smart, too. 


End file.
